Cries Of The Unborn
by gleeme33
Summary: The way Wendla and Melchior's unborn daughter sees things now, up in Heaven with her mother and Uncle Moritz. One-shot poem.


**One-shot about Melchi and Wendla's daughter and why I **_**hate **_**Wendla's mother. I named her Rachel after Lea Michele's **_**Glee **_**character. Thanks and enjoy.**

"_If it were possible to talk to the unborn, one could never explain to them how it feels to be alive, for life is washed in the speechless real._" – Jacques Barzun

I remember love.

_Love_…

I remember love.

My mother's love –

My father's.

Their love for each other

And

Their love for me.

My name would have been Rachel.

I would have looked just like my father,

But with my mother's eyes.

I would have been smart.

I would have been kind.

I would have been…

I could have been…

_Anything_.

Anything I wanted to be.

But now…

I'll never

_Be_

Anything.

My mother says

My grandma is not evil.

She says she just

Has no way to handle things

But I know

It makes Mama sad.

"Don't cry Mama," I tell her. "We're together now."

But we're not

_All _together.

I never got to meet Papa.

Mama tells me about him

And we look after him together.

Mama says

He used to be happy.

He used to be kind and smart…

And _happy_.

But now…

Without Mama…

Without _us_…

He'll never be happy.

I wish we could all be together.

_Really _together, I mean.

We could have

Been a family.

Mama didn't know what was happening

When that dark man killed us that day.

I didn't know either.

I wish someone would have told us.

Then we could all be together.

_Really _together.

As

A

Family.

It hurts Mama to talk about it.

To talk about her life,

To talk about my father's life.

I asked Uncle Moritz once…

But he wouldn't tell me everything.

Once I contacted a girl

While she was dreaming.

I didn't mean to –

But I'm glad I did.

She was nice to me.

She told me that she loved me,

Yet I wasn't even sure who she was.

She said her name was Ilse,

And she asked me

What my name was.

"My name would have been Rachel," I told her.

"You don't look older then six, Rachel," she said.

"Where is your mama?"

"She's up in Heaven," I answered. "With Uncle Moritz."

And right away

The girl looked…

Terrified…and yet…

Happy…at the same time.

She asked me if Moritz was peaceful,

And if Mama was okay.

She asked me about them.

And I answered the best I could.

I told her we were happy,

And remember her we would.

I told her Moritz was peaceful,

And that Mama was okay.

I asked her about Papa,

And she said she couldn't say.

She said my papa wasn't happy,

Not as he could usually be.

Papa wasn't happy

Without Mama and me.

Today would have been my sixth birthday,

If I were alive.

I'm excited because it'd be my birthday

If I ever had one.

Mama cries and cries

And tells me she's sorry.

She tells me that she loves me

And that she wishes

That I could have had

A birthday.

She says she's sorry

That she could never give me

A birthday.

I tell Mama not to worry,

That I don't need a birthday.

Then

She gets even more upset.

First she starts screaming her mother's name

And swearing.

And crying

And I know

She's dying inside.

Uncle Moritz

Takes me aside.

"Don't worry about your mother," he says.

"Today is hard for her."

And…I can't help but wonder…

About my father again.

What was he like?

What did he like to do?

What was his favorite color?

His favorite song?

Would he sing to me

Like Mama does?

I don't even know his first name.

And

That makes me

Start to

Die

Inside.

I visit Ilse again

As she's dreaming that night.

She looks at me

Like I'm

The answer to her prayers.

And I sit with her

And talk to her.

I ask her

The things that I don't

Want to ask Mama or Uncle Moritz.

Well, I do _want _to ask them,

Because I know they'd tell me anything,

But I don't

Want to

Hurt them.

Ilse tells me

A wonderful story.

A

Love

Story.

I thank her and go to leave…

But something in me

Doesn't want to leave yet.

I hug her

And ask her for

One more thing.

There he is.

In the graveyard

On his knees

Crying.

The grave he kneels at

Reads Mama's name.

It says she died

Of anemia.

I wonder

What that is.

Papa can't see me,

But I can see him.

And…

He's just what I've always

Dreamt he'd be.

I kneel next to him,

And hug him tight.

"I love you Papa," I whisper in his ear.

He doesn't respond,

But I know

He

Loves

Me

Too.

_Whispering_

_Hear the ghosts _

_Through the moonlight_

_Sorry doing a new dance_

_Through their bone_

_Through their skin…_

…

…_See the father bent to grieve_

_The mother dressed in mourning_

_Sister crumbles_

_And the neighbors grumble_

_Preacher issues warning_

_History_

_Little miss didn't do right_

_Went and ruined all the true plans_

_Such a shame_

_Such a sin_

_Mystery_

_Home alone on a school night_

_Harvest moon over the blue land_

_Summer longing on the wind_

_Had a sweetheart on his knees_

_So faithful and adoring_

_And he touched me_

_And I let him love me_

_So let that be my story…_


End file.
